


last week’s headline story

by sacrr



Category: inFAMOUS (Video Games), inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Gen, Good Karma Delsin Rowe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacrr/pseuds/sacrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>50 sentences, post True Hero ending.</p><p>Domestic snapshots of three not-quite-superheroes, rebuilding their lives in the city they saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	last week’s headline story

_Fall_

“You’ll see me again _,_ Delsin,” Augustine tells him with cool amusement, a twist in her smile like she’s mocking him still, a smile that shifts into a smirk as she drinks in the answering flicker of doubt in his eyes – but Fetch’s fingers are light on his elbow and Eugene’s warm against his side, and so Delsin just laughs along with the cheering crowd as the doors of the armoured truck slam shut.

_Stable_

Delsin winces in pain as Eugene carefully unwinds the bandage from around his forearm: the burn’s still there, maybe a little smaller, but there’s not much sign of healing and the yellow crust around the edges doesn't look healthy, and as he tries to stammer out something vaguely reassuring Fetch’s worried eyes study them both from her tattered armchair _._

_Fire_

The DUP commander reloads his rifle with trembling fingers, watching through the scope as Rowe somehow keeps walking towards their checkpoint, raised hands giving off faint wisps of smoke, saying “Trust me fellas, when I want to shoot back you’ll _know_ about it.”

_Water_

Some days Delsin flies up to the tip of a skyscraper and gazes down at the gentle waves of Puget Sound for hours and hours, as though he’s looking for something in the water, and on those days they don’t disturb him.

_Snow_

Eugene takes a deep breath, because he’s never liked crowds and he’s ankle deep in snow and just being back here is making his guts twist in fear; Delsin glances over Fetch’s head and notices his friend’s expression, quickly leans over to ruffle his hair and Eugene bats his hand away, grinning, as the iron gates of Curdun Cay Station slowly swing open.

_Regret_

Fetch kicks her heels against the brick, blinking a little too fast as she mutters, “You know how it is, D, it’s a moment you’d do anything to change,” and Delsin wraps an arm around her shoulders and holds her close, thinking of Reggie’s proud smile and the residual warmth of his hand after he’d let go.

_Old_

“I can't go out tonight, Delsin,” Eugene says firmly, his gaze still fixed on the computer screen, and it’s only after his friend has stormed out of the basement in a angry rush of smoke that he sets aside his controller, rests his head in his hands and wonders why his fear seems to be the only constant in this rapidly changing world.

_Grave_

“Still going?” are Delsin’s only words when he catches up with her in a filthy, litter-strewn back alley, adding the final shimmering details to a side view of Brent’s warm grin, and Fetch’s muttered _always_ when she steps back from her work is too quiet for him to hear.

_Hollow_

Even now, there is something in the way the government and the newscasters talk about the new integration policy which just _bleeds_ insincerity, and when the three of them are watching the evening news on one of Eugene’s many TVs, all squashed up together on the tiny sofa while the President rants into a microphone about _equality of opportunity_ , Fetch and Eugene exchange a worried glance which Delsin catches from the corner of his eye –there’s still so much more work to be done.

_Unseen_

The little girl flinches as another explosion rocks the news tower and a fresh ball of flame bursts skyward, but she relaxes a little when Hank rests one comforting hand on her shoulder, while the other steers the little boat further into open sea.

_Flying_

They’re on patrol, endlessly circling the last remaining mission control centre, when the pilot sees a narrow thread of purple light race up an adjacent building and, scarcely audible over the whirr of helicopter rotors, Fetch Walker’s laughing voice crackles through all their headsets: “Hey, calling all DUPs – you guys ever seen it rain neon before?”

_Rain_

“ _What now_ ,” Delsin repeats bitterly from where he’s perched on the windowsill of their hotel room, staring out at the driving rain, and Fetch and Eugene turn to him in surprise, unaware that he’d been listening to their whispered conversation, “Why does my life keep coming back to that same _fucking_ question?”

_New_

“Well, what d’ya know,” Fetch nods over Delsin’s shoulder with a grin, and when he turns around he sees Eugene walking determinedly through the crowds with his hood up and a face like he’s considering running back home again, but when he reaches them Fetch simply holds out her hand to him, which he takes with an embarrassed smile, and they all walk into the movie theatre.

_Secret_

One night they’re watching the news – the headline story an anti-Conduit rally in Delaware which attracted tens of thousands of screaming people – and afterwards the slim grey-haired politician who organised the event talks to the anchor about _necessary segregation_ and _citizen endangerment_ and Eugene just points at the screen, casually says “That’s my mom,” and the room is silent for a very long time.

_Ultimatum_

Delsin pauses before he slides a single piece of paper across the table – typed, Fetch notices, he’s actually made an effort – and as the mayor’s aide skims through the demands with narrowed eyes Delsin continues in a harder tone, “Those are just our initial ideas, by the way, because if you ever want Conduits to feel welcome in this city, you’ll need to do a whole lot more.”

_Despair_

The game controller hits the wall with a nasty _crack_ , narrowly avoiding the huge screen upon which the black and red FAIL text is still swimming, a second before Fetch buries her head in a sofa cushion to muffle her giggles and Eugene, trying desperately to keep a straight face, asks, “Not enjoying Heaven’s Hellfire, Delsin?”

_Poison_

The crate of drugs explodes in a burst of pink light and a flurry of smoke, and the dealer yelps in fear before aiming his gun towards the sky; from where he’s sat beside her on the rooftop Delsin notices Fetch’s gleeful smile as one shot of neon leaves the dealer tied down and struggling on the sidewalk, before he looks away again and carefully says nothing.

_Air_

Fetch has always loved the sting of cold air on her face when she runs and how, once she hits a certain speed, everything around her dissolves into a bright pink blur– hating faces and suspicious eyes and police sirens – but it’s only when she’s leaping from rooftop to rooftop one midnight, Delsin right on her heels and Eugene a blue glow somewhere far above them, that she rediscovers that pure joy in running as fast as possible simply because she wants to, now that there’s nothing left to run from.

_Wood_

Delsin leans his head against the sun-warmed wood of the longhouse and listens to the muffled peaceful chatter coming from inside the main hall, breathing in the smell of fresh air and new paint, and beside him Fetch stirs and mumbles something through a yawn – Delsin just presses a finger to his lips, points towards Eugene who is fast asleep, head lolling on Delsin’s shoulder, and they exchange a brief smile before Delsin tilts his face up towards the sun and closes his eyes again.

_Head_

He misses: half a second after the bolt leaves Delsin’s palm the DUP officer unexpectedly sprints forwards to get a better shot, and the neon beam which should have pinned him harmlessly to the ground instead blasts him right between the eyes – for several minutes after that nameless soldier crumples to the sidewalk Delsin crouches on the roof, taking in deep shuddering breaths until the people on the ground have stopped screaming, and only then does he race across the city towards Fetch’s favourite billboard with tears blurring his vision.

_Bugs_

They end up in a dingy apartment in a bad part of town, where the hot water come out in a weak dribble (if they’re lucky) and the inside of the fridge is a pale yellow that once, Delsin thinks, used to be white, but the worst comes when Eugene walks out of the bathroom on the morning after they moved in, saying he’s just found a nest of cockroaches under the sink: Delsin sighs heavily before dialling the landlord’s number, and he’s too cynical to be surprised when the call goes straight to voicemail.

_Strange_

“...and once me and Brent hit the rooftops, the cops never stood a hope of catching us,” Fetch finishes, and laughs with the others before taking another huge bite of chow mien, still smiling when Delsin starts to reminisce about his own misspent youth, and it’s not until later when she’s curled up in bed that she realises that was the first time in recent memory she’s told a story about Brent without feeling the memory of his loss like a punch in the gut straight after, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face – another thing that hasn’t happened for a long time.

_Spring_

There’s a street corner, blurred by static, where all that remains of the mob of protestors who regularly gathered there are a few rain-spotted cardboard signs, and a back alley which used to be a haunt for drug dealers is abandoned, walls glowing with fresh neon, (when the camera swivels round to a different angle he can just make out _a promise kept_ ) _,_ and as Eugene’s eyes rapidly switch from one screen to another, finding evidence of progress on nearly all of them, he feels a rush of pride at how much the three of them have managed to change in just a few months.

_End_

“And stay out, assholes!” Fetch bellows, hands cupped around her mouth like a loudhailer and Delsin just grins, slings an arm across her shoulders as far out in the distance, halfway along a thin bridge that spans the churning water, the final DUP convoy flees Seattle.

_Snakes_

Fetch bends her arm at the elbow, five thin snakes of glowing neon curling out from each of her fingers as she approaches the alleyway – Delsin copies, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and she briefly talks him through maintaining fine motor control before carving a graceful _Fetch_ onto the wall.... and then glances away awkwardly, head bent, when the first letter Delsin gouges into the brick is a shaky _R._

_Peace_

For the first week Eugene is visibly on edge: his fingers twitching and his voice cracking mid-word (not that he says all that much), unsure how to react at the invasion of the basement he had carefully selected to be _hidden_ , to be _private_ : Fetch and Delsin notice, tread carefully, and after some friendly smiles and easy conversations, followed by a couple of movie nights and one morning of opening the fridge after an argument and finding it carefully restocked with his favourite snacks, Eugene admits to himself that this might actually be... okay.

_Hope_

The day after Augustine is taken away Fetch runs – what she does best – because everyone she’s ever cared about she’s lost, one by one, and she’s not going to add another two names to the list just because she’s _selfish_... but after a few days of living alone her footsteps unconsciously circle back towards the hotel she knows Delsin and Eugene are being lodged at by the media, before she knows it she’s in the parking lot, and a few seconds later she’s standing outside the door of their room with an unfamiliar feeling lightening her chest.

_Home_

“She came back,” murmurs Eugene, and relaxes for what feels like the first time in weeks at the sight of hazy neon-purple light in the gap beneath their door – Delsin makes a confused sound from the kitchen where he’s boiling the kettle for tea, and Eugene raises his voice: “You’d better make it three cups, Delsin.”

_Light_

“My God, thank you, thank you so much,” the man stammers, pumping his saviour’s hand before hurriedly picking up his wallet and fleeing the alley and for several seconds Eugene is frozen, attention caught between the swords of blue light which pin the unconscious would-be mugger to the sidewalk and the indescribable buzz of showing his face to an enemy for the first time in years and _winning_ , before he takes one deep shaking breath and walks back out into the busy street.

_Beginning_

They’re a hundred miles south of Seattle when Fetch realises she’s forgotten her phone and Eugene, bizarrely, is the only one of them who knows how to drive, but it’s as Delsin says before he turns up the stereo, with his Docs on the dashboard and sporting a pair of sunglasses so obnoxiously stylish that Fetch steals them five minutes later, they’ll need to pass at least five hundred D.U.P control centres before they hit the Atlantic and they might as well give them a show to _remember_.

_Drink_

“To compromise then,” Delsin suggests with a crooked grin, and Fetch raises her glass to the toast – and even though the other two had suggested a more flashy and public celebration, from where he’s sat between his two best friends with a large bottle of the best alcohol their meagre finances could afford on the kitchen table, Eugene can’t remember having a better birthday.

_Winter_

Midwinter and the heater in their shitty apartment’s broken, and they’re curled up together on the sofa under all the sheets and blankets they can find – classical music bleeds out of one of Eugene’s ear buds and he hums quietly along, thin fingers absently pulling at a loose thread on one of the cushions, while Fetch’s head makes his other arm numb as she contently flicks through _Wuthering Heights_ and Delsin is curled up against her side, having stolen most of the blankets, snoring gently.

_Lost_

By the time Delsin drags his eyes away from the ocean depths the sun is up – just the first of an infinite number of sunrises that Reggie will never see.

_Taboo_

“Fucking freak,” one of the activists on the corner yells and Delsin nearly drops the groceries, turning towards the protestor with fury in his eyes, black smoke running in tendrils along his forearms... but instead he spins on his heel, tightens his grip on the plastic bags and walks away fast, shaking his head, _not worth it, not worth it, not worth it_.

_Food_

The pink-haired girl laughs the loudest: most of the heads in the longhouse canteen immediately turn towards the sound, but the dark eyes which had studied Betty with such distrust that afternoon are bright with laughter, and a moment later Delsin puts down his fork and whispers something in reply which makes her and the well-mannered boy with the trembling voice laugh even louder, and Betty pauses for a moment, watching them fondly, before she turns back to her meal.

_Solid_

The concrete barrage hits Delsin square in the chest and he hits the ground hard, scrabbling hands too slow to stop him landing head first on the sidewalk and the impact leaves him helpless and groaning, as the DUP agent slowly walks forward, shielded by a whirl of pebbles as his fists glow a brighter yellow...

_Foot_

... Before the agent can strike, however, a long thread of neon loops around his armour-plated left ankle and, in the time it takes him to look down in surprise, the band has snapped upwards along the length of his body and he’s left flat on his back fruitlessly struggling against his bonds; Delsin’s head throbs painfully but, as he hauls himself to his feet and turns his gaze upwards, he’s just in time to see a thin swirl of pink vapour on the nearest rooftop before it dissipates into the breeze.

_Honour_

When it’s done they all walk outside into the sunlight, the whole tribe hugging each other and crying with relief, and Betty eventually steps away from the crowd, rests a gentle hand on Delsin’s arm, and he returns her smile before he glances up at the defaced billboard (at Reggie’s painted grin) and says “There’s something I’ve got to do.”

_Summer_

That first summer in Seattle goes down in history: the government send in the National Guard along with several thousand DUP reinforcements, ostensibly to maintain order, but in reality to subdue the city which is fast becoming a haven for recently released conduits... but, remarkably, they are met with angry protest from the same activists who were giving out leaflets about the dangers of living among Bio-Terrorists only a few months ago, the military’s temporary headquarters are vandalised (for once, not Delsin’s doing) and when the troops are finally chased out of Seattle in less than three weeks, though the government uses the flimsy excuse of an _urgent recall_ , the world sees for the first time what humans and conduits united can achieve.

_Duty_

“The DUP’s been dissolved for eight months,” Fetch says from the living room doorway at 4am and Delsin pointedly flips a page of his old sketchbook, hissing in pain when the movement jars his bruised shoulder, “so who are you fighting now, D?”

_Welcome_

“If you ever want to come back here, you’re always welcome,” Betty calls after her on impulse from the longhouse doorway – Abigail spins around so fast her rucksack slips off her shoulder, the look of total surprise on her face gradually becoming a tiny smile as she awkwardly waves goodbye.

_Blank_

Delsin hasn’t so much as doodled in the three months since Reggie’s memorial service, and whenever he picks up his sketchbook he just chews the end of his pencil, or drums it onto the blank paper to give the impression he’s doing something more constructive, and it’s another three months before he gathers the remainder of his courage, collects his cans and cardboard, finds a suitable brick wall, takes a slow, deep breath.

_Flexible_

Later, Delsin realises that back at the cannery he’d been distinctly aware of two possible choices – surrender his own freedom or sacrifice the Akomish to protect himself – and for many long nights after Augustine had fallen he’d sat up late, wide awake, and wondered how his life would have altered if he’d chosen differently, if the rigid sense of right and wrong his brother had instilled in him had been a little more flexible, and Delsin had decided to prioritise himself and his own instead of the innocent and oppressed, before his thoughts turn to how Eugene and Fetch might have forsaken their own morality in turn.... and, inevitably, whether Reggie would still be alive today.

_Metal_

Eugene sinks into cushions and sofas with ease, and in winter curls up in layers of blankets until he’s barely visible, but when faced with any seat made out of metal, even a flimsy aluminium chair perched outside a busy cafe or an empty park bench in the heat of summer, he stumbles and shuffles away, preferring to stand, and it takes Fetch and Delsin a long time to figure out why: that he can’t feel the cold touch of metal on his skin without thinking there are tight cuffs holding his wrists and ankles in place, that he cannot separate the memories of uncomfortable steel chairs from bright sparks of electricity arcing through the shadows towards him, and the expression of polite interest on Augustine’s face as he finally starts to scream.

_Coffee_

They’re out all night tackling DUPs – the following afternoon Fetch wakes up to the strong smell of fresh coffee and, once she sleepily stretches and rolls over, her eyes open to a steaming mug at her bedside, and her fond smile at the quiet voices and clattering china in the kitchen is hidden by the semi-darkness.

_Stone_

More than any of his other powers, concrete scares him: it hits harder, cuts deeper, and every time Delsin uses it the image of a man-shaped concrete block half-buried in sand at the bottom of Puget Sound flashes before his eyes.

_Time_

“Wait, who’s Brent?” Eugene asks one night, confused, and it’s several seconds before Fetch can breathe.

_War_

“So, you see the problem’s not only in Seattle, or even just the US, it’s...” Eugene breaks off, and lets the world map projected onto the wall do the talking – both of the Americas and nine tenths of Europe and Asia are stained bright red (indicating state-sanctioned imprisonment and/or execution of suspected Conduits), and at the sight of Fetch and Delsin’s matching horrified expressions he quietly concludes, “well, it’s everywhere.”

_Darkness_

The pale boy doesn't say anything this time, just stares down at the grey floor like he can’t even force himself to care anymore, but when she squints through the shadows of the military truck Fetch can just make out the glint of a thin piece of metal sticking out of a pair of handcuffs, and Daughtry’s wide, wide grin.

_Green_

“Maybe there’s a place for us out there,” Delsin says softly, watching the Pacific Ocean slowly fade from blue to green in the dying light, and Fetch gently squeezes his hand as the sun sinks below the horizon, tells him _maybe it’s right here, D_.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: although most of these don’t have any real chronology, there are a few small story arcs that develop throughout and a few are slightly connected. There’s a super-basic timeframe that underpins everything: in this version of events, Delsin, Eugene and Fetch are moved into a hotel during the media buzz immediately after the events of the game, and they find their own place a couple of weeks after that. 'Beginning' ironically takes place last, when the three of them drive out of Seattle for an epic road trip across America / a noble quest to bring down a morally bankrupt government department. Mainly the road trip.  
> A parallel version which deals with the Infamous ending is currently in the works, so hopefully that’ll be up soon. Thanks for reading!


End file.
